


When I Was You

by neon_valley



Category: DC - Fandom, DCU, Smallville, Superman - Fandom
Genre: Body Swap, M/M, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neon_valley/pseuds/neon_valley
Summary: Waking up in Clark's body Lex is not sure how he ended up there or if any of this is even real. Had he never left Belle-Reve, or was this a new plot by Lionel?Set at the end of season 3.





	1. Chapter 1

Lex woke from deep, dreamless sleep when a cool hand gently touched his face. He tried to open his eyes, tried to shake the fog from his brain but managed no more than a weak grunt.

"Are you okay, Honey?" a woman's voice asked, concerned. 

She tenderly smoothed down his hair, her fingers lingering on his forehead to check his temperature. 

"You feel a bit hot."

She continued to stroke his – hair? He hadn't had hair since – Lex tried to remember what date it was, but the answer floated just out of reach. His mother had died years ago, hadn't she? How was this possible?

It wouldn't be the first time. Lex felt her lean down and kiss his forehead. 

"Mom?" He asked in wonder, his own voice strange to his ears. He'd had many dreams about his mother after she'd died and many more drug-induced ones strapped to a bed in Belle-Reve. Those though weren't usually this nice.

He covered her hand with his. His hand felt odd, too. Too big, too heavy, but he didn't care. Dreams were like that. Lex leaned into the touch, soaking up affection he hadn't realized he'd missed so dearly. If this was indeed a dream he didn't want to wake up. 

He felt her get up to leave and held on tighter, not wanting this dream to end,  dreading the nightmares that would certainly replace this moment of happiness. "Don't go, Mom!" He pleaded. "Please."

To his relief, she sat back down and her hand caressed his cheek. "I'm calling school, you're staying home today."

Lex nodded weakly and let her tug the blankets around him.

He must have fallen asleep again and when he awoke this time dawn had given way to day and his head was much clearer. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around at the unfamiliar room.

This wasn't his home, but to his relief, it wasn't a cell in Belle-Reve either.

Lex rubbed his hands over his face, willing away the slight sleepy sluggishness that remained. There was something wrong with his face, too. It felt rough. He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side and then it hit him. Not his legs, not his arms either. Lex's hands shot up ran over his head, touching the unfamiliar texture of hair.

What the hell was going on?

:::

Lex got up and looked around the mess of a room, looking for clues, for anything that could explain where he was and why he was in someone else's body. It was definitely a teenager's room. There was a Smallville Crows poster on the wall and the floor was covered in piles of laundry. School books were haphazardly stacked next to the bed. A framed photo of Clark and his friends stood propped up against some CDs. Lex picked up the calculus book from the floor. The name on the dust jacket confirmed what he'd suspected. 

He was at the Kent farm in Clark's body. But how? Even in Smallville, with all its weirdness, there was usually a reason.

Last night -- what had he done last night to cause this? He'd been working on a proposal and then he'd gone to bed.

Lex closed his eyes, focusing on what he could remember when he heard voices coming from downstairs. Bits and pieces of a conversation between Mr and Mrs Kent suddenly swelled from being barely above a whisper to a thundering cacophony, echoing through the walls and into his brain, making him nauseous and dizzy.

He stumbled and sat down heavily on the bed, head clutched between his hands in pain, trying to block out the noise that was louder than it had any right to be, louder than the laws of physics should allow.

It stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving him drenched in cold sweat and barely able to form a coherent thought. He lay down quietly, eyes closed, breathing deeply until his heart stopped racing and the nausea receded.

Lex ignored Mrs Kent's question, yelled up the stairs, of what he wanted for breakfast and fled into the bathroom, hoping that Clark's parents would not bother to check on him there. He needed to think.

He stumbled into the shower and turned the water on, standing braced against the tiled wall, trying not to panic. He watched the water pool around Clark's feet, gushing down the drain and tried to collect his thoughts.

What was going on? How had he ended up in Clark's body?

And what about _his_ body? Had he simply disappeared, was he an empty shell lying glassy-eyed in his bed? Lex shuddered. He really hoped that was not the case.

The last thing he remembered was going to bed in his own body and home. The switch, he deducted, must have happened sometime during the night.

For one paranoid moment he wondered if the Kents could have engineered this somehow, but decided against it, it really was more his father's style. 

If it even was a switch. The much more likely scenario was that he'd never left Belle-Reve.

Lex shivered, even under the hot spray. What was he going to do about it?

Lex stared at the plain white tiles as if they had the answer and had to steady himself in shock when the wall vanished and he got an x-ray view of the bathroom plumbing. Clark was such a liar --

Where _was_ Clark?

Shit. He'd have to find Clark. If he really was in his body he had to stop Clark from telling anyone. The last thing he needed was getting both of them thrown into Belle-Reve, or disappear to one of his father's labs never to be seen again. He knew his father's health was declining and if Clark accidentally handed him this on a platter–

He really hoped Lionel had nothing to do with this. If Lionel found a way to swap bodies Lex didn't doubt for a second that his father would take over his for a shot at eternity.

The water drumming onto his head was starting to cool, telling Lex that his refuge was about to turn uncomfortable. Only, it did not. To his astonishment the suddenly ice-cold water registered as that, but nothing more, causing not even goosebumps.

He'd have to face the Kents and their lies soon. Mrs Kent thinking he had a cold was a godsend. He knew next to nothing about farm chores and he didn't really trust them not to just call Belle-Reve on him.

They would probably believe him but knowing them, he was also most likely going to get blamed for this, even though Lex had no clue how this switch – or whatever it was – had happened, never mind how any of this was even possible. And Mrs Kent, Lex thought bitterly, had shown more than once that her loyalties lay with his father.

Lex turned his face into the cool spray wondering if even his mind could dream up water that felt this realistically arctic.

He toweled himself dry with the blue towel that hung on the hook neatly labeled 'Clark' and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt he picked from a folded pile of clothing left in a laundry basket in Clark's room.

Considering his options, crawling back into bed or going downstairs for breakfast, Clark's stomach made the choice for him.

:::

"You look a bit under the weather, son." Mr Kent looked him up and down, worry in his eyes. It made Lex squirm. He ducked his head. Could they tell?

Obliviously Mr Kent went on, "You'll let us know if you're struggling with some new ability, won't you, Clark? Can't have you burning down the barn."

Lex nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Well, if nothing else, Lex thought, suppressing hysterical laughter, that proved that the Kents had no idea. Mr Kent handing him Clark's secrets on a platter would have been intensely satisfying if not for the circumstances. It was unsettling to have that man talk to him with affection and worry. Not, Lex thought bitterly, that he actually was.

"Let the boy eat his breakfast, Jon," Mrs Kent placed a plate with waffles, eggs, and bacon on the table in front of an empty chair. 

"Looks like you've had another growth spurt," She sighed, eyes fixed on the hem of his sweatpants. "I'll see what they have at Goodwill this afternoon."

Lex's eyes widened in shock as he recognized that name. It was on the LexCorp charity donation list he signed off on last Christmas.

Unsure how to respond he sat down and busied himself in true Clark fashion, avoiding conversation with mouthfuls of food. He'd known Mrs Kent was a good cook and he wasn't sure what he'd expected but eating food when it Clark's body made the experience close to orgasmic, the flavors almost overpowering in their intensity.

He heard his silver Porsche speed down the driveway, even before it skidded to a gravel spewing halt right in front of the porch.

Well, that explained where Clark was Lex thought, pushing his plate away.

"What the hell does _he_ want?" Mr Kent growled, glaring at the door. "It's barely past 7am."

"That would be Clark," Lex clarified, trying to play his cards for honesty while he could.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mr and Mrs Kent turned to him in confusion but then the screen door was wrenched open and _Lex_ stormed into the kitchen. 

Lex took a moment to look at himself, barely noticing that he was wearing yesterday's clothes. It was a sobering moment. He remembered all too vividly when he'd first woken after the meteor strike. A kindly nurse had handed him a mirror, an unreadable expression on her face. Sickly pale and bald. Lex sighed, remembering how he'd thrown the mirror across the room in horror, wishing he could give in to that impulse now. So much for self-delusion and growing into his looks, Lex thought bitterly. 

"Lex?" His own voice distorted by Clark's inflection made Lex cringe.

"Yes," Lex nodded and watched Clark let out a relieved breath and flop down heavily on a chair. 

"What the hell is going on?" Mr Kent bellowed, slamming his hands onto the kitchen table, looking from Clark to Lex and back. "Luthor, what did you do now?"

"Jonathan," Mrs Kent gently admonished, then turned to Clark. "But I would like to know that, too."

"I think we swapped bodies," Clark explained and Lex had to bite back the urge to sarcastically ask 'you'd think'.

"Oh, Honey." Mrs Kent reached out to hug _him_ but then changed her mind, patting Clark awkwardly on the shoulder instead. "Is it like Eric?"

Lex watched from Clark's body, taking in the surrealism of it all, before getting up and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Then it hit him.

"What do you mean like Eric? Who's Eric?" Lex demanded to know, confused and annoyed that they had information he didn't.

The Kents shared an infuriating look that made Lex's skin crawl with the lies and half-truths he knew he was about to be fed.

"This has kinda happened before –" Clark studied the worn wood of the table before mumbling. "Last time it happened I got hit by lightning."

"We weren't," Lex pointed out. He took a sip of his coffee, suppressing a wince at the taste of preground store brand that even Clark's enthusiastic taste buds could not improve. "So how did you reverse it, assuming it didn't just wear off over time?"

"No, it didn't," Clark explained and Lex tried to raise a questioning eyebrow but found that Clark's face would not cooperate.

"The last time it happened," Clark continued "all Eric and I needed to do was hold onto some kr-- meteor rock and a live wire."

"A live wire. An electric live wire?" Lex clarified and had to steady himself on the counter when Clark nodded.

No. Lex tried to breathe but there was no air, just the loud, rapid sound of his heartbeat, faster and faster by the second, making it hard to breathe and even harder to think. They wanted to – Memories from Belle-Reve drowned him. Strapped to the chair, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth, unable to breathe. Why was there no air in here? He smelled the ozone, remembered, no -- felt the voltage sweep through his body, burn his skin and take his memories. He would not – they could not – no.

"Lex, are you okay?"

Lex looked at Clark, Clark in his body, looking concerned, reaching out and –

He started shaking his head. He would not let them do this to him again. Never again.

"I'll get the generator going," Jonathan Kent said and got up from the table, his chair scraping over the floorboard.

Grey crept in around the edges of his vision and Lex's hand tightened around his coffee mug, then watched in disbelieve as it shattered between his fingers, coffee and ceramic shards flying every, hitting him – Clark – in the face, blood gushing from a cut on his cheek and then Lex backed away, toward the door, still shaking his head in denial. He had to get away, had to get out of here. Now. He had to --

He heard, more than felt, the chair fall to the ground and the door slam shut behind him as he got up and started to run, pushing Clark's body to its limits.

Down the road and onto the interstate, Smallville flew by in a matter of seconds, then Metropolis loomed at the horizon and still, Lex kept on pushing faster, no limit in sight.

Soon the grey tunnel of fear that clouded his vision fell away and the panic that had fueled his flight subsided. Lex started to feel the joy, the exhilaration of the speed Clark's body was capable of. The countryside flew by in streaks of yellow and green and sky-blue, as did cities and then mountains and then he found himself running on water and it felt good, terrifyingly good.

A few minutes later, when he sat on a quiet beach in Mexico, Lex took a moment to calculate his speed. Had he really just run from Kansas to Mexico at Mach8? Clark really had hit the jackpot when it came to meteor mutations.

No, he hadn't.  The thought was unwelcome, unwanted but Lex couldn't deny its truth.

Lex trained his eyes at the horizon. A thunderstorm was brewing in the distance and Lex suddenly felt cold. He flinched as a multi-forked bolt of lightning flash across the sky, knowing that he couldn't fight the inevitable. He had to face it. None of this was real, could be real.

Lex let the warm, white sand run through Clark's strong fingers, wondering how long this dream would last, knowing that he was still in Belle-Reve, strung out on medication, gibbering in a corner, his brain fried to a crisp –

For a moment he was tempted, very, very tempted to just keep running. To give in and leave reality and sanity behind and spend his life gibbering in a corner in Belle-Reve. It was such a nice dream. 

But if he stayed here it would mean leaving Clark behind and he realized he couldn't. He wanted to see Clark again. The real Clark, not whatever it was his imagination had cooked up. Clark was the one person he still felt a connection to and even though he'd felt, painfully felt, Clark pulling away from him, he wasn't ready to let Clark go. Maybe ever.

:::

The run back took a bit longer than getting there since he'd had to stop a few times to get his bearings. The sonic boom that followed his arrival back at the farm had the Kents come outside, staring at him in relief.

"Let's just," Lex took a shallow breath, trying to steady himself, refusing to look at any one of them. It was a beautiful day, too bad that it was an illusion. "Let's get this over with."


	3. Chapter 3

The Kents were waiting for him inside the barn and Lex tried to shake the feeling of doom that was settling over him when Mrs Kent closed the barn door behind him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom and when they did he saw Mr Kent leaning against one of the support beams, face cast in shadows. He was holding the pull-string of the generator. 

_Clark_ was standing next to him, giving Lex a watery smile, a piece of meteor rock glowing sickly green on a bale of hay next to him. He was clutching the butterfly clamp of a car jump starter cable in his right hand. Lex noticed that he wasn't meeting his eyes.

"It's going to be fine, Lex," Clark tried to reassure him, looking just as nervous as Lex felt. "I've done this before."

"Okay," Lex whispered, trying hard to believe his own words. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he took the final steps toward _Clark_ , trying to hide that they were trembling. 

Lex took one final glance at Clark. No, not Clark, but a hallucination of his broken mind. His body with Clark's mind. And wouldn't his therapist have a lot to say about that? 

"Ready?" Mr Kent asked as the generator hummed to life and Lex briefly closed his eyes to gather his courage, then nodded. He closed his fingers around Clark's. The meteor rock in Clark's hand burned where Lex touched it and he watched in detached fascination as his -- Clark's -- skin turned grey and veiny. The burn was quickly eclipsed by the disturbingly familiar prickly numbness of electricity crawling up his arm, through his body, freezing him in place. 

This was it, Lex thought as he started shaking and the world grayed around him. Soon he'd wake up back at Belle-Reve, hands and wrists cuffed to the bed, his throat raw from screaming. Then he'd see Clark again. 

He woke, curled on his side, still in the Kents' barn. The stench of ozone hung heavy in the air. Too weak to move he studied the packed earthen floor right in front of him, wondering what to make of this. He shouldn't be here.

The hum of the generator stopped suddenly and then he heard Mr and Mrs Kent shouting Clark's name but their voices seemed far away, filtered through cotton wool. Lex closed his eyes again. He felt tired. 

Someone was gently shaking his shoulder when Clark said out loud what Lex feared to be true: it hadn't worked. 

Lex felt the Kents rush away from him, over to where Clark was getting up, still stuck in his body. With some effort, Lex pushed himself up on his elbows and into a semi-sitting position. Flexing his fingers to get the feeling back he watched, with undisguised jealousy, as the Kents embraced _him_ , held _him_ , asked if _he_ was okay. 

It was like watching some bizarre nightmare, yet he couldn't bring himself to lower his eyes, to look away. The family, the affection he'd wanted his whole life given to him, to him but not him. The unfairness of it all sat sour in his stomach, made him ball his fists and wonder if his body would remember.

Why hadn't it worked?


	4. Chapter 4

The local classic rock station was playing softly in the kitchen on tinny speakers. When Clark turned it off Lex shot him a grateful smile, even if the uncomfortable silence that settled was only marginally an improvement.

Mrs Kent passed around the coffee pot and Lex found himself absentmindedly adding a third spoon of sugar to his mug. He smiled despite himself. Apparently, Clark's body remembered Clark's preferences.

Before he could add a fourth spoonful Mr Kent snatched the sugar pot away, mumbling something about sugar not growing on trees.

"What are we going to do now?" Clark's voice sounded brittle and very young, even coming from Lex's body.

"We could start the generator again," Mr Kent suggested, glaring at his coffee.

"No!" Lex recoiled from the echo of his own voice, he'd spoken louder than he'd intended. "No," he repeated more softly, trying to hide a shiver. He hated it when he lost control over his emotions.

Lex refused to meet anyone's eyes, not ready to face the pity or, in the case of Mr Kent, the contempt.

"It wouldn't work, anyway," Clark said so softly that it could almost have passed for his own voice. Mrs Kent rubbed his shoulder reassuringly and Lex had to look away, hiding his sudden, intense jealousy by adding more cream to his coffee.

The Kents shared a knowing look that made Lex's blood boil. He knew they were still keeping secrets, knew he was about to get lied to.

Lex took another sip of his coffee, trying to calm his temper. His head was spinning with too many possibilities, and he wasn't even fully convinced that any of this was real. Belle-Reve was still an option he couldn't rule out completely.

The silence stretched from uncomfortable into desperate and past the breaking point. Mr Kent chugged the rest of his coffee, the mug hitting the table with a loud thud.

"You've had your fun, Luthor," Mr Kent snapped, all eyes suddenly on him. "You got what you wanted, now undo whatever caused this, others have work to do."

"What makes you think I had anything to do with this?" Lex met his stare, unwilling to give an inch when he'd done nothing wrong.

"Stop playing stupid, we all know the only thing you ever wanted from Clark was his secrets." Mr Kent balled his hands to fists, anger coloring his face. "Well congratulations, you got them."

"How do I know you're not all part of one of my father's plots?" Lex shot back, temper rising, annoyed at the accusation. He instantly regretted his words when he saw the hurt flit over Clark's face. Shit.

"Clark, I'm sorry." Lex forced himself to look at Clark, hating himself for doubting his friend. "I didn't mean that. I'm just --"

"Sure you don't." Mr Kent narrowed his eyes at him and Lex was wondering if he'd noticed that Clark wasn't the only one with secrets. The cut on Lex's face was all but healed.

"What are you planning to do with this knowledge, Luthor? Is Clark going to disappear into one of your father's labs?"

The fear flicking over Clark's, well _his_ but still Clark's, face cut him deep. Lex swallowed his anger with difficulty, not wanting to say anything that would cost him Clark's friendship, no matter how much he wanted to right now. Why did everyone always assume the worst of him?

"I would never do that to my friends," Lex tried to reassure Clark while he glared at Mr Kent, feeling a strange burning sensation behind his eyes. He'd do anything for Clark. Had done anything. He'd kept Clark's secrets, drugged out of his mind, strapped to a chair in Belle-Reve. He'd killed for Clark --

"Is that a threat?" Mr Kent challenged, "Are you blackmailing Clark into this _friendship_?"

The burning sensation increased to an irritating itch, doing nothing to calm his anger.

"Close your eyes! Lex!" Clark cried, panic raw and urgent in his voice. He grabbed his father and pulled him forcibly to the floor.

For one second, through the red haze of his anger, Lex wondered what the hell was going on, then the curtains over the sink burst into flames.

"Shit." Lex covered his eyes with both hands, breathing deeply until he felt the burning sensation lessen and disappear.

When he dared open his eyes again Clark was at his side. The curtains were smoking wetly in the sink and Mrs Kent was whispering furiously with her husband.

Lex snuck a look at Clark. "What the hell was that?"

"Heat-vision," Clark mumbled. He pulled a chair close and sat down next to Lex.

"What the hell, Clark?"

"Enough," Mrs Kent ordered as she pulled a pack of legal pads from a drawer, smacking them onto the table with an angry thud.

"Clark, Lex. Why don't you write down what you did yesterday, so we can compare and maybe find some kind of clue?"

An hour and a half later, Mr Kent had left a while ago to finish Clark's chores, they had compiled a list of times and places of where they'd been the day before.

They'd ended up having to dictate the list to Mrs Kent, neither being able to write legibly with the other's off-hand. Disappointingly, though, that list didn't give them much more of a clue. Other than the Talon they hadn't even been to the same place. Lex had spent most of his day at his office at the plant and Clark had been at school. It was utterly frustrating.

"Well, at least it's a Friday," Mrs Kent sighed, gathering up the pages she had written. "And who knows, maybe you'll switch back the same way it started, overnight."

Lex severely doubted that that would happen but he'd yet have to come up with a better idea.


	5. Chapter 5

The screen door opened and Mr Kent entered the kitchen, glowering at Lex from the door, no doubt checking up on them. 

Clark looked his father up and down, a worried expression settling on his face.

"Lex, can I talk to you? Outside." Clark slouched, shuffling his feet. Watching Clark's mannerism performed by his body was utterly surreal, almost like he was mocking Clark.

Suppressing a hysterical giggle, he pressed his lips together and nodded instead.

He took his empty coffee mug and walked over to the sink. Turning on the tab he quickly rinsed it, then bent and pulled the dishwasher open. He felt three pairs of eyes watching his every move. Lex forced himself to relax, despite the tense silence. He hated being judged, hated no-win situations like this. Maybe next time he'd just leave his dirty mug on the table since that's what they seemed to be expecting of him anyway.

"Honey," Mrs Kent got up and gently took the mug from him, placing it in the sink. "The dishwasher is broken." She turned towards Mr Kent. "Someone was supposed to replace the pump."

"I'll be getting my tools." Mr Kent grumbled, pointedly not looking at Clark.

He kissed his wife on the cheek, glaring at Lex over her shoulder.

"Lex, you coming?" Clark held open the screen door for him. Lex squared his – well Clark's – shoulders and followed Clark out of the kitchen, wondering why he even bothered trying.

:::

They sat on the couch in the barn, staring out over the banister, not looking at each other. It was easier that way.

"So, what else can you do? Other than run at Mach8 and setting things on fire with your eyes. I'd hate to inadvertently cause even more damage."

When Clark didn't answer right away, Lex peered at Clark him from the corner of his eyes.

"Clark?"

"About what my dad said, about getting locked up in a laboratory and --" Clark was all but shaking with fear, and Lex hated himself for being the cause. It was easy to forget how young Clark was. "Now that you know what I can do--"

Lex cursed under his breath, he hadn't meant to scare Clark, he truly had just wanted to know.

"Do you really think I would do that to you?" Lex's voice was tight. The doubt, in Clark's voice, cut deep into his insecurities.

"No." Clark wrapped his arms around himself and looked at the floor. "But it scares me, Lex."

"It scares me, too," Lex admitted softly, mollified that Clark hadn't hesitated. Sometimes he wished Summerholt had been a little less successful. He remembered every last second of his treatments in Belle-Reve; every test, every experiment, every minute helplessly strapped to a table. "I promise you, Clark, I'll never let that happen to you."

There was a brief silence and then Clark had his arms wrapped around him and his head buried in his shoulder, whispering a muffled thank you.

Lex clung to the embrace, wrapped his own arms around Clark, needing an anchor. Part of him still felt untethered, about to float away. He needed this reassurance just as much as Clark did. It felt like a new start.

After a while, Clark let go and Lex felt the loss like a bodily ache.

"Lex, I have a favor to ask," Clark hedged. "It's kinda big."

"What is it?" Lex shut his mouth before his traitorous tongue gave Clark a blank check, chagrined that he probably would anyway.

"I'm worried about Dad. His heart is – the doctor says he shouldn't be doing half the things he's doing and –" Clark sighed. "Now I can't."

"You want me to help out around the farm." Lex ran a nervous hand up the back of his neck, pulling it back as if burned when instead of skin he touched Clark's hair.

"I know he's not exactly been fair to you, but –" Clark's voice hitched in his throat. "I know it's a lot to ask and I don't know what I can offer you-"

"Clark. Stop!" Lex put his hand up, silencing Clark with the gesture. "You're my friend, you don't have to offer me anything in return." Lex briefly closed his eyes, wondering what exactly he'd just gotten himself into. Already knowing there was nothing he wouldn't do for Clark.

"You'll have to show me what to do."

:::

"For tomorrow." Lex held out an outfit, hangers balanced on his index finger.

"Are you saying I'm cramping your style?" Clark feigned outrage, sitting down on the bed.

"Yes," Lex teased.

He hung the clothes he'd chosen on the inside of the bathroom door, so Clark couldn't miss them tomorrow morning.

Earlier he'd had shown Clark around the essential parts of the castle, parts Clark didn't frequent when he visited; where he kept his clothes, the gym and how the showers worked. He'd also given him one of his back-up laptops to use in the study.

"Clark?" He stuck his head back out of the bathroom to find his friend sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

"It's going to be alright, Clark," Lex tried to reassure him, wondering how alien his bedroom, his life, appeared to Clark. "Maybe we'll be back to normal tomorrow morning, just as your mother said."

Clark nodded, looking ill at ease. Lex sat down on the bed and nudged him with his shoulder, trying to ease the mood.  

"Come on, let's order pizza and then we can shoot some pool." Food seemed to always cheer Clark up.

Clark took a deep breath, looking lost. "Can I call you later, I --"

Lex swallowed around the sudden emotions welling up. "Any time, Clark, you know that, right?"

:::

Lex stood in the hallway, Clark's backpack with his laptop in it slung over his shoulder. He gaped at the unholy teenage mess that was Clark's room. This morning he hadn't really been in the right state of mind to appreciate the full scope of the chaos. It made him shudder thinking about what Clark was probably doing to his rooms in the castle. He liked his shirts in order.

An evil grin settled on his face. He might not be able to do anything about Clark spreading chaos in the castle, but turnaround was fair play, wasn't it?

Within five minutes he'd returned all of Clark's books to their place on the shelves, picked up and folded various shirts and made the bed with proper hospital corners. A skill he hadn't used since Excelsior.

He pulled open the wardrobe and sighed. Dumping all of Clark's clothes on the bed he put them back neatly divided into shirts and pants and sorted by color.

The room restored to a modicum of order, Lex quickly organized Clark's school notes, fanning them out neatly by topic on the desk.

Admiring his handiwork, Lex grinned to himself. He'd have to have a camera ready to capture Clark's face when he saw this.

Then he noticed it, among the framed pictures of Clark and his friends, a familiar purple card. Lex picked it up, running his finger over the words he'd written what seemed like an eternity ago. Clark might not have been allowed to keep the truck, but he had kept Lex's card. It made him feel all kinds of warm inside.

"Are you done snooping?" Mr Kent glared at him from the door, shaking his head.

Lex didn't deign that challenge with an answer but he did wonder if Mr Kent realized that he'd just given away that there was, indeed, something to find.


	6. Chapter 6

Lex woke to a soft rap at the door.

"Clark?" Mrs Kent asked softly, on hand on the partially open door.

"I'm sorry," Lex managed to say, yawning. "No."

"Oh." Her smile slid into a barely hidden frown and Lex hated being the cause of that change in expression. It wasn't as if this was his fault, to begin with.

"We're going into town to run some errands," Mrs Kent nervously smoothed down her skirt, suddenly unsure on where to look. "There are pancakes on the table. The butter is in the fridge and the syrup next to the coffeemaker. We should be back in a couple of hours." 

"Thank you," Lex said automatically, sharing her disappointment. He looked around Clark's room and ran a resigned hand over his face. Clark's face. Not that he'd really expected them to switch back just like that, but it would have been nice. Nevertheless, this was still better than some of the alternatives. He'd take Clark's room and body over Belle-Reve any time.

He waited for her to leave the room before he got up and pulled on a T-shirt.

As she'd promised a cling-wrapped stack of pancakes was waiting for him, propping up a note repeating that they were out running errands in town.

Today's newspaper sat folded up on the table, a ballpoint pen lying uncapped on the half-finished crossword. Lex put the cap back onto the pen and poured himself a cup of coffee. The time the coffee had spent sitting in the machine had done nothing to improve the under-roasted store brand flavor, not even with Clark amounts of sugar and cream but the pancakes were amazing, even cold.

After he'd finished breakfast and the more interesting parts of the newspaper, Lex put on what he assumed to be Clark's work clothes and pulled out the list of chores. He'd promised after all.

Less than an hour later he'd fed the cows, filled their troughs with fresh water and checked all the fences. He'd even finished mucking out the stalls. He probably could have done it in less than thirty minutes, too, if he'd pushed.

Lex stuffed the list he and Clark had made together into his back pocket as he entered the kitchen. He'd triple checked the pellet to mineral ratio Clark had given him and made certain that no hemlock or horsetail was growing on the pasture before letting the herd out. The last thing he needed was to accidentally kill more cows.

Testing just how strong Clark's body was had been fun but in the end frustratingly futile. He'd easily lifted the Kent's ten-ton tractor. Too easily. Later he'd have to find something heavier, maybe some of the equipment at the plant would do.

His own meteorite mutation was pretty damn handy, especially in Smallville, but Clark had hit the jackpot.

He was a couple of steps into the room when he remembered Clark's warning about dirty barn shoes. He sheepishly backtracked and toed them off at the door, hoping the mud wasn't too noticeable. Thankfully no one seemed to be home right now.

Even though he'd only agreed to help with Clark's chores because, well, Clark had asked, but the chores had turned out to be kind of fun and, of course, educational. He'd tossed around bales of hay and 100lbs bags of cattle feed as if they weighed nothing and no matter how much he'd pushed he had yet to reach the limit of what Clark was capable of. It was truly amazing. He couldn't believe that he'd finished what should take two farmhands the better part of a day in less than one hour, even though it did explain how the Kents could manage a farm this size all by themselves.

Lex's stomach growled and he decided to take a closer look at the food in the fridge, hoping for last night's leftovers.

Feeling rather satisfied with what Mr Kent no doubt would obnoxiously call 'honest labor', Lex poured himself a glass of orange juice. There was a cling wrap covered plate with sandwiches sitting on top of several Tupperware boxes. Lex lifted the cling wrap and peeked under the bread. The egg-salad smelled amazing.

The juice, to his disappointment, was not freshly squeezed but tasted processed, almost metallic like the kind they served on commercial flights. Yet it was tangy and sweet and Clark's body's enjoyment of food took over, overriding any complaints Lex would have otherwise had. He downed half of the contents, refilled his glass and tossed the empty jug into the bin labeled recycling, then took the glass and the sandwiches back to the table with him.  

He was halfway through the second sandwich, thinking that he'd seen some apple pie in one of the Tupperware containers when he heard the Kent's truck turn into the driveway.

Lex held the screen door open for Mrs Kent, taking the bags of groceries from her and putting them on the kitchen counter. He was about to ask her if they needed help carrying the rest in when he saw her staring at his nearly empty glass of juice.

"I put the empty jug in the recycling," Lex started when he noticed her expression change to quickly hidden annoyance.

"Yes, that's fine, Cla- Lex," Mrs Kent stated, sounding tired. She picked up her purse, digging in it for her wallet.

Lex watched her pull out a couple of bills and count them, wondering what had just happened, when she left and drove off without another word. 

He was informed of what exactly by Mr Kent a few seconds later. At the top of Mr Kent's voice. Not only had he apparently drunk the orange juice Mrs Kent needed for an order of muffins, he'd also eaten Mr Kent's lunch.

"I can pay for what I --" Lex said, realizing too late that that was the wrong thing to say.

"Keep your goddamn money, Luthor." Mr Kent bellowed, angrier now than he'd ever seen him. "You can't just treat us like servants and take whatever you want."

"And now Martha has to go back into town because of you," Mr Kent's voice echoed through the kitchen, and much to Lex's chagrin he learned that cringing and blushing seemed to come naturally to Clark's body.

"Would it kill you to be considerate for one time in your life? We aren't your goddamn servants." 

Lex tried to come up with a strategy, with some way to defend himself that didn't sound inherently whiny and entitled but fell short. He hadn't meant to cause Mrs Kent trouble and felt a pang of guilt at having done so. 

And while he was aware that this had very little to do with him, that tempers had been short and that the whole situation was equal parts confusing, frustrating and terrifying, the words hurt. He schooled his into the blank mask he used when dealing with his father.

"What are you smirking at, Luthor? Do you think this is funny?" Mr Kent's was putting away groceries, slamming the cabinet doors as he worked. "I know you're behind this swap, it's already paid off in your favor, hasn't it?"

Lex waited for a break in the verbal assault, parental ranting was by no means a new experience, to make it look less like he was fleeing.

"If you'll excuse me." Lex stepped out off Mr Kent's way and tried to exit with as much dignity as he could muster.


	7. Chapter 7

Lex tried to shake the annoyance settling unpleasantly in the space behind his eyes. He hadn't asked for any of this and the constant suspicion he was under was starting to get to him. The last time he'd been this on edge was when his father had moved into the castle.   
   
He locked the door then stripped in the bathroom, angrily stuffing Clark's work clothes into the hamper. Maybe spending the day at the castle would be a good idea for everyone involved.   
   
He noted that the well-worn towels he'd used yesterday were gone, replaced by fluffy white ones with delicate lace trim.   
   
About to step into the shower he caught a glance of Clark's naked body in the mirror and turned to stare. Clark was stunning. Absolutely perfect. It wasn't that he hadn't known this but his well-used memory of Clark strung up as the scarecrow didn't do the reality justice.   
   
Lex slowly trailed the well-defined muscles on Clark's stomach with his fingertips and moaned when his thumb brushed over a fat, dark, nipple.   
   
A small part of him felt dirty about what he was about to do but he stomped on that feeling, shoving it out off his mind. Clark was straight. Lex licked his thumb and teased the other nipple. He let out a breathy gasp when the cold air pebbled the sensitive flesh. Clark wanted Lana. He wrapped his hand around Clark's hardening cock, enjoying the silky hard feel of it in his hand. He'd never get more than an already waning friendship from Clark and he'd come to terms with that. Mostly. Lex's thumb teased the unfamiliar foreskin, liking its satiny texture and how it slid over the slick head. This was the only chance he'd get to have Clark, even if it was in form only, and he was not going to throw it away because of his pesky conscience.   
   
Stepping into the shower he turned the water on, relying on the sound to mask what he was about to do, should anyone be so crude as to listen at the door.   
   
Lex closed his eyes and stood under the spray, the hot caress of the water streaming down his body was almost overwhelmingly sensual.   
   
Clark's big, strong hands glid over his water-sleek body, fingertips brushing over the treasure trail of dark hair that started just below his belly button and spread into crisp, dark curls nestling Clark's heavy, uncut cock.   
   
Lex slid his thumb down the hardening length of it, brushing it over the sensitive crown, biting back a moan at the sensation. He wasn't sure what he wanted more, Clark's hands-on him or him touching Clark.   
   
Slick fingers sliding up and down and -oh god- up again had Clark's cock hardened to an impressive length under his leisurely strokes and Lex leaned his head back against the white-tiled wall, trying to remember every gasp, every moan he could wring from Clark's body. Clark's glorious, magnificently sculpted body, that a Greek god would envy. Clark that he would do anything for would never let go if he ever had a chance at this in real life. Clark on his knees sucking him off, Clark's hard, thick cock coming down Lex's throat, Clark's arms around him as he fucked him. Anything, everything. There was nothing he wouldn't give, or do to for Clark to want him like that.   
   
But Clark wouldn't. With a cold shudder that had nothing to do with the insufficient hot water the Kent's geriatric water heater could supply, Lex realized that the whatever monkey-paw had him granted him this fantasy had also taken any chance he'd ever had for it to become true. That just as he was getting to see Clark in all of his glory, Clark, too, would see him naked.   
   
It was a sobering thought, and one he tried to banish from his mind with long hard strokes of Clark's cock, but, like a curse, it had taken hold and he felt himself wilt and shrivel in its wake.  
   
Maggot, peeled shrimp, mole-rat. Freak. The taunts that echoed through his mind sounded all too much like Queen and his cronies back in Excelsior. It wasn't that they were wrong. Lex was all too aware what his naked, hairless body looked like, and he kept tight control on who got to see him without clothes. That Clark would get to see him like that, without a well-planned seduction to make up for what he lacked in physical charm, made him only more determined to enjoy this shower, knowing that his unclothed body would inspire nothing but pity. It wasn't that he didn't get laid regularly but he was well aware that it was despite and not because of the way he looked.   
   
Another expert tug at Clark's dick had him harden again and Lex kept at it with desperate determination. But the release, when it came, left him unfulfilled and with the taste of ashes in his mouth. Breathing hard, he steadied himself with one hand against the plain, white wall, and let the water wash away the evidence of what he'd just done.


	8. Chapter 8

The smell of baking muffins filled the house when he got out of the shower.  
   
Lex pulled open Clark's closet and rifled through the shirts. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud but he'd come to appreciate flannel. Well, on Clark anyway. His fingers danced over the hangers when he recognized a very familiar blue, long-sleeved shirt. Overwhelmed with nostalgia, Lex pulled it out and held it up deferentially. Clark had worn this when --  
   
Lex grinned as he balled it up and stuffed it into his backpack. Finders, keepers.  
   
Dressed and ready to go, Lex squinted at the floor, using Clark's super-vision to see through to the first floor to see if anyone was around. He was coming to love his enhanced senses.  
   
The house was empty but for Mrs Kent, who was checking on something in the oven and Lex thought how very tempting it would be to use Clark's super-speed to get past her. But no, that would look like he was fleeing and Luthor's didn't flee. Instead, he sauntered down the stairs, backpack over his shoulder, ready to leave for the castle.  
   
When he entered the kitchen, Mrs Kent was sitting at the table, checking off sums on her tax form against receipts.  
   
Taxes were due in less than a week and Lex was a bit surprised that the Kents hadn't filed theirs yet.  
   
"Mrs Kent," Lex acknowledged her politely, walking past her to the kitchen door.  
   
"Lex," She looked up from her work, voice carefully neutral. "Are you going anywhere?"  
   
"Yes," Lex said, one hand already on the door. He wasn't their son, he didn't owe them his whereabouts.  
   
"Join me for a cup of coffee," Mrs Kent suggested and started to move the papers to the side, trying to make room for Lex.  
   
Lex held up a weary hand. "It's alright, I don't want to intrude. I can see that you're busy." He leaned against the counter to make a point. He wondered if this was an olive branch and if it was if he should take it.  
   
"The muffins are almost ready and the recipe makes more than the order they put in," Mrs Kent offered, getting up to pour two cups of coffee. "Here." She handed him one of the mugs. "I could use a break, to be honest."  
   
Making his decision, Lex schooled his features, well Clark's features, into a pleasant mask, trying to hide his trepidation. Better to get this over with, not knowing when he'd get his body back. He might have to live with them for a while.  
   
"I would like to apologize for this morning," Lex said, reminding himself of one of his father's more valuable lessons, broken clock and all, that words were cheap but could open doors yada yada yada. Even if his stubborn pride objected loudly. "I didn't mean to cause you more work."  
   
Mrs Kent nodded in acknowledgment but didn't offer an apology in return. Lex tried to shrug it off, it wasn't for her to apologize anyway.  
   
Coffee and pastry in hand Lex was starting to get curious where this conversation was going. People usually weren't nice to him without some ulterior motive. His eyes fell on the tax forms. If he wasn't certain that the Kents would rather starve than take one red cent from him, he'd think that was where this was going. The farm was drowning in debt.  
   
"You did Clark's chores this morning." Mrs Kent stirred sugar into her mug, then paused, looking him straight in the eye. "Not that I'm not grateful, but --"  
   
So this was what that was about. Was it so hard to believe that he did something, anything, just to be kind?  
   
"Clark asked me to." Lex picked at his muffin. It was better than the coffee.    
   
"And you agreed, just like that?" Mrs Kent was watching him intently, not unlike Lionel did, and Lex disliked it intensely.  
   
"Yes, just like that." Lex forced himself not to give ground. "Is that really so hard to believe?"    
   
"Thank you." Mrs Kent nodded briefly and got up to box the muffins for delivery.  
   
The thank-you had been unexpected but he'd take it, even if it wasn't an apology. He was owed several by now, not that he was keeping score.  
   
"Pete dropped off Clark's homework if you would be so kind," Mrs Kent addressed him, back to him, stacking her delivery boxes for later. She pointed to a folded piece of paper on the counter. "And I was thinking, that you both should come over for dinner tonight."  
   
"Yes, of course," Lex agreed easily, Clark was probably missing his parents.  
   
"Around six will do." Mrs Kent turned her head and smiled. She held out a paper lunch bag and a set of car keys to Lex. "The delivery is already in the truck and these are for Clark."  
   
"We will be there," Lex agreed and a small, almost hysterical voice in the back of his head pointed out just how married that sounded.  
   
"Oh, one more small thing." Mrs Kent looked up at him from her writing, tapping her pen on the table as she spoke. "Please be careful with Clark's powers. I'm sure you understand that you cannot be seen using them."  
   
"I'll be careful, I promise," Lex said with sincerity. He knew what happened to people with useful mutations all too well. "I kept Ryan's secret, didn't I?"  
   
"You knew about Ryan?" Mrs Kent sounded astonished. "But how?"  
   
"His parents used him to read my mind to get the password to my bank account," Lex gulped down the rest of his god-awful coffee; he'd have to bring back some from the castle. "It was hard to miss."  
   
Was everyone in Smallville willfully blind? It would explain how Clark had flown under the radar for so long.  
   
"He was a good kid." Mrs Kent topped up her coffee and went back to her taxes.  
   
"Yes, he was. I'm sorry he had to die so young." Lex ate the rest of his muffin as he watched her tick off receipts for feed bills, tractor parts and other farm necessities that even he knew could be written off. They'd probably save thousands of dollars if they let an accountant do their taxes for them. Maybe if he suggested a good firm--  
   
Stuffing the last bite into his mouth, he brushed the crumbs of his hands over the sink. "Mrs Kent," Lex started, "I know it is not my place but at least half of those expenses can be written off –"  
   
Lex watched her slam the books shut with what almost amounted to super-speed. Right. Nevermind.  
   
Lex sucked in an annoyed breath through his teeth and left without looking back. What was it about the Kents that made him want to help when every time he tried it was thrown back in his face?  
   
 

:::

  
   
Mrs Walkers, the cook, smiled and held open the door for him when he brought the box of produce into the kitchen.  
   
"It's good to see you around more often, Clark." She reached up and gently patted him affectionately on the cheek.  
   
Lex's eyes went wide and he had to stop himself from flinching. No one touched him with casual affection. Not since--  
   
"Mr Luthor is not in right now, dear." She smiled up at him and before he could protest she'd pushed him towards the breakfast island and was at the fridge, pouring him a glass of juice. "Why don't you have a seat, I'm sure he'll be back soon." A plate was put in front of him, stacked high with chocolate-chip cookies." Mrs Walkers winked at him. "He's always around when he knows you'll come over."  
   
Clark had gone out? That was interesting. Lex ran a hand over the back of his head. Having hair still felt weird.    
   
Belatedly he remembered that he was supposed to act like Clark. "Yes, ma'am," he said politely. "Thank you."  
   
Lex ate in silence while Mrs Walker bustled around the kitchen, putting away the produce.  
   
"Mrs Walkers, do you know where Lex is?" He asked, wondering if they'd just missed each other and Clark was at the farm now.  
   
"No, I'm sorry dear. He left more than two hours ago. Maybe he went to the plant."  
   
Two hours? Where on earth had Clark gone?  
   
"What's this?" Mrs Walkers held up the paper bag with the muffins. "I didn't order those."  
   
"Orange muffins," Lex explained.  
   
"From your mom?" Mrs Walkers asked, peaking into the bag.  
   
"Yes, she made them for -- Lex," Lex choked out, suddenly wanting to be any place but in this kitchen having this conversation.  
   
"I'll come back later, Mrs Walkers." Lex gave her a watery smile and all but fled the kitchen.  
   
Lex had already started the truck when he saw his Porsche coming down the driveway.  
   
"Hey Lex," Clark looked slight guilty when he got out of the car and Lex was more than a bit curious why.  
   
Clark watched Lex inspect the car with an amused smile. "I swear I didn't ding it."  
   
"Roof is still attached, too," Lex teased, it felt good to finally not be called crazy for stating the truth.  
   
"I'm not apologizing for that," Clark grinned, leaning against the hood with his legs crossed at his ankles, in a very good Lex impression. "I'm glad you're alive and I'm glad I don't have to lie to you about that anymore."  
   
About that. It took all of Lex's self-control not to let his annoyance show. Don't play word games with me, Clark. You're not nearly as good as you think you are.  
   
"Me too, Clark," Lex smiled back, feeling brittle inside. What else was Clark hiding from him? Why did he still not trust him?  
   
"Hey, so where did you go?" Lex surreptitiously checked the miles on the odometer, calculating where Clark could have gone.  
   
"Nowhere. I -uh- I was bored and went for a drive," Clark looked off into the distance, not meeting his eyes.  
   
"There's not much to do at the castle, isn't there?" Lex asked, digging in his pocket for Clark's homework assignments. "Pete dropped this off for you."

Clark groaned when Lex tossed him the paper. 

Clark's evasion was interesting, though, if not outright suspicious. It was a shame that he hadn't had the forethought to turn on the car's GPS tracker, but from the looks of it, Clark hadn't gone far.  
   
"Wanna play some Mario Kart?" Lex suggested, nodding toward the castle. He'd get to the bottom of this later, right now he'd rather spend time with his friend.


End file.
